Dobby House Elf and the Popular Culture
by Diresquirrel
Summary: Harry makes the mistake of letting people around an impressionable poor house elf. Dobby takes his obsessions a little too seriously. Rating for violence. Yes, violence.
1. Dobby Verses Punishement

**Dobby vs. Punishment**

_WARNING_: misspellings and abused grammar are intentional in this fic. There might be a few places where it isn't but for the most part it's for character's sake.

Bad Grammar ahead. You have been warned.

* * *

And now, the first installment of the Epic Tale: Dobby House Elf and the Popular Culture.

* * *

Dobby knows what wes needs and what the Great Harry Potters is needing. The Great Wizard Harry Potter has many bad wizards after him and he's be needing Dobby's help. Dobby knew long ago that there be something wrong with the bad masters.

They be needing punishment.

Dobby didn't know what to do, so Dobby went to ask the Great Wizard Harry Potter for Harry Potter's Great Advice.

"Dobby be needing help from the great Harry Potter, but Dobby be too weak to be worthy of the Great Harry Potter's helps," I tolds him.

"That's okay, Dobby," the Great Harry Potter says. "There isn't much I can do this summer with Marge over again, but I'll do what I can."

"Harry Potter be such a nice wizard! Must be bestest wizard in the WHOLE world," Dobby said. Dobby knows it to be the truth because Harry Potter is the Greatest Wizard ever! "Dobby be wanting to help the great Harry Potter fight the bad snake people, but Dobby not be knowing how."

"I don't want you to get hurt, but I'm glad you want to help," Harry said. "Maybe you could bring me things to read? It gets pretty boring up here in my room while Marge is around."

"Okay! Dobby be bringing bestest readings and stuffs," Dobby said with a big grin. Dobby grinses big when he helps the Great Harry Potter! So, Dobby popses and finds a big store with shiny reading stuffs with pictures. Dobby knowses wizardses like stuff with pictures because the little bad master couldn't read well if there weren't pictures. Little bad master was pretty stupid.

"I's be needing theses for the Great Harry Potter!" Dobby said to the fat man behind the counter. He was reading something calleded the Punisher. Dobby be thinking it be what Dobby needed. "Dobby take one of them, too!"

"Uh, okay, that'll be about a thousand two hundred and forty-five dollars," Fat Counter Boy saided.

"Dobby not be knowing what dollarses are, but Dobby have 1245 galleons instead," Dobby said, dropping the coins on the table.

Uh-oh, Harry Potter's Missy Hermy Grangy says wes not be clear and she needs to edit Dobby's journal. She be making it clearer, but saided Dobby will still be Dobby. That's good.

_**The remainder to be edited and transcribed by Hermione Granger for grammar and sanity. Situations and dialogue to be unchanged other than a few additions from witnesses.**_

"Here, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir! Dobby be getting yous reading material and somes for Dobby, tooses," Dobby said, dropping the obscenely large stack of comic books on Harry's lumpy bed. Dobby plucked the top one off the stack. "But Dobby be reading this one."

"The Punisher's War Journal? That looks a little violent," Harry said. "Are you sure you want to read that?"

"Oh yeses! Dobby am so happy the Great Harry Potter cares for Dobby, but Dobby be reading this one," Dobby said with the energy of a hyperactive poodle puppy on crack. Harry shrugged, leaned back on his bed and started reading a Green Arrow comic. Dobby, however, seemed utterly enthralled by the mentality of Frank Castle and before long, Dobby knew what he had to do.

"Dobby be having a plan to help the Great Harry Potter," Dobby said with a Romanesque salute across the chest. "Dobby be knowing it be bad to get the Great Harry Potter in trouble, so Dobby be right back."

With that, Dobby popped out of the room, leaving a confused Harry Potter watching the place where his free house elf friend was just a moment ago. Dobby, on the other hand, had other plans. He transported himself back to the comic shop he had been just a few hours before. The Fat Counter Boy gawked once more at the strange creature that had just bought one of every comic in the store a few hours earlier.

"Dobby be back and he be needing clothes," the little house elf said. The Fat Counter Boy nodded numbly and pulled down the black t-shirt bearing the distinctive symbol of Frank Castle on the front after the strange creature pointed it out. "Great! Now Dobby be needing gunzes. Where can Dobby be finding Gunzes, Fat Counter Boy?"

"Uh, you might try the gunshop across the street," the Fat Counter Boy said, a disbelieving expression on his face as he continued to stare at the little humanoid in front of him. "Can you hallucinate from eating bad Cheetos? Boss? Am I going insane?"

"Are you seeing a two foot tall gremlin thingy with an English accent that just shrunk a Punisher shirt to its size and is off buying guns?"

"Uh, yeah."

"We're still in Texas, right? Not England?"

"Yup."

"It's probably the bad Cheetos," his boss said in an equally numb voice. He held out his hand as Dobby struggled with the door by pushing where it said pull. "Pass a few more of those over. I never used to like Cheetos."

Dobby finally managed to open the door and ran across the street to the gun shop. After having similar trouble with the opposing door, this time pulling when he should have pushed, Dobby ran up to the counter, dressed in his Punisher shirt and nothing else. It was more than a little disturbing.

"Dobby needs guns," Dobby said firmly in a voice the allowed for little disagreement. "Big guns! Lots of Guns! And ammo too! Dobby needs to be protecting the Great Harry Potter from the bads snake's men!"

"Uh...what are you?" the gunsmith asked.

"Dobby," said Dobby. "And Dobby be needsing gunzes."

"Uh...okay," the man said befuddled by the strange creature. A little while later and a few thousand galleons less, Dobby had guns.

* * *

"Wait, Dobby," Hermione asked. "Where were you getting the money to buy these?"

"Stupid bad masters never tell Goblins that Dobby no longer bad master'ses elf, so Dobby be taking care of business with bad master'ses gold," Dobby said with a slightly manic grin.

"Oh, well," Hermione said, smirking a little at the turn of events. "Carry on, then."

* * *

Dobby the House Elf popped back to Harry's bedroom looking like a small elven Frank Castle with the shirt, the cargo pants and even a black bandana tied around his head. The little elf shrunk the weapons down to fit a creature of his size and started to lock and load.

"Uh, Dobby?" Harry asked as he sat up from his "research" in female anatomy. "Why do you have guns?"

"Dobby is going to take care of bad masters and the Great Harry Potter sir's problems," Dobby reported in an artificially gruff voice. "Then Dobby record it all in Dobby's War Journal. When Dobby kills bad masters and freeses elveses, Dobby will give them guns, too!"

"Oh," Harry said, his previous activity mostly forgotten as he tried to mentally digest what he'd just learned.

"Muggles'es knows that problems are solved with lots of guns," Dobby continued. "And Dobby finds Muggle solutionses to Pureblood problem ironic."

"Oooookaaaay. Just don't get your self killed," Harry was quick to reply.

Dobby ominously cocked a pump action shotgun. "Dobby not be getting killed. Dobby be handing out punishment."

And with that, Dobby popped away.

* * *

**Dobby's Punisherer War Journal Entry, Day 1**

Dobby tracked the bad masters to Dobby's old stomping grounds. Mr. Harry Potter Sir's enemies were swarming all over the place like fruit flies on an old piece of butterbeer soaked peaches that Winkie left out for ten weeks because she was drunk.

* * *

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Miss Hermy Grangy miss?"

"Get on with the story," Hermione commanded. "There's no need for self-monologue."

"But Dobby be Punisherer, so Dobby must self-monologue," the house elf protested.

"Fine, but just get on with the story."

"Okay!"

* * *

Dobby knew the bad masters' snaky master was at bad masters' house with naughty mistress, serving like Dobby once did. Was bad enough that Dobby once felt sorry, but that was over. To take care of the problem, Dobby decided to use a sword of justice. It was the kind of sword that muggles prided themselves on, the kind of sword that could cut through enemies like a _diffindo_ through... something that cutting curses cut really easily. That sword was called a Claymore. The nice man in green at the armory was really proud of them.

But these claymores were really small, so Dobby thought it would be a better tool, if Dobby enlarged them and filled them with more balls. Dobby made his claymore twenty-five feet tall and placed it in the Bad Masters' garden. Then Dobby painted "sword of justice" on the side in big blue letters.

"Crabbe! What's that wall doing in my mother's garden?" Draco Malfoy demanded as he looked out the window. The meaty minion leaned forward to see the whole thing.

"Dunno," Crabbe said, using all of his mental faculties to their fullest.

"Well, what does it say?"

"Uh, 'Sword of Justice'"

"Nonsense! That's not a sword!"

"And, uh, _'this side towards enemy,'_ huh?" Goyle finished. Soon, all three boys were looking out the window.

"Why would someone write something as nonsensical as that?" the younger Malfoy demanded.

* * *

"And that was when Dobby activateded the Sword of Justice," Dobby said gleefully, throwing his hands up in the air to emphasize a house shattering kaboom.

"Wait, the 'spell' that everybody's been researching at the Ministry was a giant muggle claymore?" Hermione asked, looking up from her quill and parchment.

"Yuppers!"

"But it didn't end there," Hermione pointed out. Dobby sadly lowered his head.

"Nosers. Dobby only got little bad master and little bad master's friends and some of the others who wear skull fracking snakes," Dobby said.

"Dobby! Where'd you learn language like that?"

"Mr. Harry Potter Sir's cousin likes Battlestar Galactica," Dobby replied innocently. "When piggy cousin too stoned to notice, Dobby watches, too. So Dobby seenes every episode."

"Whatever, back to the story."

* * *

"My House! What happened to my house?" Lucius Malfoy screamed as he and his wife apparated to just outside the wards. Malfoy Mansion was in ruins. All that was standing was a giant metal wall with a garishly painted white skull on a black background. Judging by the way the paint was dripping, the culprit must have been there recently.

"No! My baby!" Narcissa Malfoy screamed in horror as she spotted a patch of blond hair stained red. Dobby watched from the shadows as the bad master swore revenge. Then Dobby shot bad master's head off with a sniper rifle. Hmmm... Dobby always did say naughty mistress looked better in red.

* * *

**Dobby's Punisherer War Journal, Day 2**

The mission at bad masters' house was a semi-success. While the skull fracking snakes weren't all there, it put a major chink in stupid snaky's plans for killing the Great Wizard Harry Potter sir! Dobby wasn't sure what to hit next, but his plan came when Dobby decided to get a newspaperses for the Great Wizard Harry Potter Sir.

The newspapers said that it was bad that some one hurt all those people who were "_imperiusted_" in the last war. Dobby knew that there must have been some skull fracking snakes at the newspapers. Dobby needed to become the Punisherer once more.

The Punisherer knew he needed more...what was word? Oh, yeah, 'intelligence.' Dobby, er, the Punisherer needed more intelligence on skull fracking snakes. So Dobby went to the Ministry. Dobby didn't expect to find much intelligence there, but that didn't stop Dobby the Punisherer from looking. Dobby found out that the Ministry keeps all their intelligence locked up away from peopleses and they don't be using it. Dobby the Punisherer be thinking that's stupid.

* * *

"Why does miss Hermy Grangy be laughing?"

Hermione wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and got her mirth under control. "Sorry, Dobby, but people have been looking for intelligence in the Ministry for years and they never found it."

"Oh, okay."

"Never mind, please continue."

* * *

So, with the list of people who were "_imperiusted_" in the last war, Dobby was ready to start Punishing them for being skull fracking snakes. Dobby finds that skull fracking snakes are really easy to Punish if they don't know Dobby's there. Lots of bad masters' friends died, er, were 'punished' that day. Dobby made sure to use the white spray paint to tag them with the sign of punishment. Stupid wizard press thought Dobby was a wizard. Except for Quibbler's editor; Xenophilius thought Dobby was a house elf on a rampage, but no one believeded him.

Dobby discovered that, as badmasters' friends were punished, pinky toady was getting upset. Then she sent the dementors to the Great Harry Potter Sir.

The Great Wizard Harry Potter didn't need Dobby's help, because Harry Potter is the Greatested and Bestest Wizard ever! But that made the pinky toady madder than pinky toady already was, and she and the bad masters' friend Fudge got the Great Harry Potter in trouble. Dobby thought they could use some punishment.

Dobby snuck into the pinky toady's house and put her in a sack. Then Dobby took the bad pinky toady to an 'undisclosed location' that was in the Great Harry Potter Sir's uncle's trunk. Dobby cast silence on the trunk and the bad pinky toady traveled around for five days on nothing but bread and water. On the sixth day, Dobby popped into the trunk to have a "chat."

Oh, and Dobby wore a glow-in-the-dark skull shirt, so the bad pinky toady could know what was going on. Dobby had made sure that the Great Wizard Harry Potter Sir's piggy cousin bought the Punisher movies (all of them) and watched them while stoned. Piggy cousin thought they were comedies, but Dobby knew them to be research materials. In Dobby's "chat" with the pinky toady, Dobby used a blow torch. Unfortunately, the blow torch was knocked out of Dobby's hands by the bad pinky toady and started melting a hole and started a fire. Dobby had to leave before the car blew up.

The papers said that the Great Wizard Harry Potter's uncle had kidnapped a woman and she died trying to escape. The papers said it was sad, but no one really knew the truth about pinky toady except for Dobby. Harry Potter Sir was brought in for questioning, but he didn't know anything about his uncle kidnapping women, but he did tell them about growing up in his old room. Bobby One and Bobby Two were very interested in that fact and took The Great Harry Potter's auntie to a new home with concrete walls and iron bars.. Then they caught Piggy Cousin doing drugses and took him to another place where he got to play special games with Bubbah. Bubbah had lots of ink, but wasn't a skull fracking snake, so Dobby didn't punish him.

Mr. Harry Potter Sir had fun at Privet drive that summer and invited all his friends. Dobby wanted to go, but there were still skull fracking snakes and the bad masters' snaky master out there. Dobby discovered that some people from the Emm Eye Five and the Sea Eye Eh really liked Dobby's galleons that he was still taking from the Malfoy vault, even if only naughty mistress was left. They gave Dobby lessons in many things like making bombs, marksmanship, and improvised weaponry, and gave him lots of Swords of Justice.

Dobby knew that to really take care of the problem, all the skull fracking snakes needed to be punished, but he'd get in trouble if he punished those who didn't deserve it. The Ministry wanted to know who was the "Skull Wizard" but many muggleborn wizardes and witcheses corrected them. See? They knew about the Punisher. Stupid purebloods didn't know what was going on. They accused the Great Harry Potter of killing the pinky toady, but he swore on his life and magic that he'd never even heard of the pinky toady before.

As the summer months rolled on, there was not many skull fracking snakes or their Slytherin spawn, but Dobby hadn't punished the snaky master yet, and it was getting harder and harder to find the skull fracking snakes. They were an endangered species, but the snaky master kept making more and more, so Dobby kept having to punish more and more. It was time for the Great Harry Potter and friends to go back to Hogwarts, but Dobby wanted to make sure that there weren't any other skull fracking snakes other than Mr. Whisker's greasy dungeon snake.

Dobby solved that problem, by physically tossing the little skull fracking snakes out windows. Miss Hermy Grangy calls that defenestration. Dobby calls it punishment.

* * *

"So, wait," Hermione said. "You've killed almost every Death Eater-"

"What is 'Death Eater'?" Dobby asked, cocking his head curiously. Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Um...'Skull fracking Snakes' are Death Eaters," she explained slowly. "But what are you doing next?"

"Well, Dobby be going to Disneyland," Dobby said.

"WHAT?"

"That's what the telly said to do," Dobby explained. He looked up at Hermione and saw her flexing her jaw without words coming out. He shrugged, waited a moment longer, and when he got no response, he scampered off. Later, when Hermione had a chance to recover, she sought out Harry Potter, the probable source of the problem.

"Harry, what are you going to do about Dobby?" Hermione inquired slowly.

"Wait until he gets onto something else, why?" he replied, looking up from his Charms essay.

"He's out there killing and you're just going to wait?"

Harry shrugged.

"Honestly, he's just killing Death Eaters and other people who are likely to join up, but just haven't taken the mark yet," Harry said. "He's not doing anything to anyone who hasn't already become a monster."

"But-"

"Hermione, it could be worse," Harry said, cutting her off. "Hell, it _has_ been worse. At the beginning of last summer, Mrs. Figg let him watch her Sailor Moon collection. There's nothing more terrifying than a house elf in a Sailor Scout outfit."

* * *

Beginning of Last Summer:

"In the name of the moon, Dobby will punish you!"

"Holy crap!" Dudley said in horror. "Let's get out of here!"

* * *

"Much worse." Harry gave an involuntary shudder. He took a deep breath and continued. "He just needs to get onto something else. He's a good guy at heart."

* * *

The next morning, Harry awoke to a scream that could nearly shatter glass. He ran down from the boy's dorm to see Hermione Granger growling in absolute, undiluted rage. She also had red hair with her natural frizzyness, so she looked like she belonged at the helm of the Magic School Bus, rather than at a desk at Hogwarts. She was dressed in a jumper made out of a combination of colors that should have been illegal and a long purple dress that hit the floor.

"Uh, Hermione, what happened?"

"Dobby happened!" she snarled.

"I hate to bring this up, but you've got red hair and you're looking a little..." Harry gestured his arms to signify that she was a little more stick-ly than shapely that morning.

"I want my curves back!" Hermione demanded. "Where is that blasted elf?"

"Winky here," Winky said, dressed in a blonde wig, a pink tube top, and a denim skirt with a small pointed stake in one hand. "Why does Mr. Harry Potter have gray hair?"

Harry looked in a mirror and noticed, yes, he did have gray hair and a book tucked under his arm. He was also wearing tweed. He was supposed to be a little young for tweed.

"Oh, dear lord," Harry said before glancing down at the book in his hand. It was black leather with a raised border and six clearly distinguished letters. "**Vampyr**? Where have I seen this before?"

"_In every generation, there is a chosen elf,"_ Dobby said from the shadows in an overly serious voice. "_One elf, in all the world, given the strength to fight the vampires, the demons, and the skull fracking snakes of darkness. She is the Slayer."_

Harry and Hermione looked down at the elf. Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts with an eye patch, Dobby smiled warmly up at them. The sound that came from their mouths shouldn't have been humanly possible.

"What's up, Mr. H-man, sir?" Dobby asked in his best SoCal accent.

"DOOOOOOOOBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYYYY!"

* * *

Another silly fic. This was originally an idea for "Thinking" but it seemed like it needed its own world, as it didn't quite mesh.

I don't own it, Joss, Disney and JKR do.

Thanks be to Greywizard once more.

Oh, and there will be at least one more chapter to this, but not too many.


	2. Hedwig Verses Hamburgers

**Hedwig vs. Hamburgers**

* * *

Thanks to GreyWizard once more!

* * *

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_While you no doubt have never heard of me, I am Sanguini, one of the few vampires in the isles. I am fully compliant with the Ministry's laws and registration, so please do not consider this to be a threat._

_I respectfully request that you command your house elves to stop sending me hair gel, black dusters, crimson silk shirts and pre-carved stakes. While I was amused at your house elves' enthusiasm at first, it has become tiring and I am losing patience with the situation._

_Please inform them that this 'Buffy' show is nothing like real existence for vampires in this day and age. Vampires who play the mysteriously-sexy-creature-of-the-night card are looked down upon as posers. We actually have a rather active social life._

_Sanguini_

_P.S.: Please inform Dobby that I do not appreciate being referred to as "Deadboy," "Gel-Head," "Angel," or any of the other vampire monikers from the show._

* * *

"Hey, Dobby," Harry said. An instant later, the house elf, still sporting his dreadful Hawaiian shirt, appeared at his side.

"What's the what?" Dobby asked.

"I got a letter from Sanguini again," Harry said in a disapproving-father tone.

"Oh," Dobby said, looking at his feet.

"Don't worry, Dobby," Harry continued. "Just let him be, and everything will be fine. However, I do have a project for you in a bit."

The smile on the creature's face was wider than should have been physically possible, so Harry figured magic had to be involved.

"Let me take care of somethings, and I'll let you know," the wizard told him.

Dobby nodded eagerly before popping away. As soon as the elf was gone, Harry leaned back, slumping into his chair. He didn't know what was going on, but all of Harry's clothes had become tweed, including his boxers. That was rather uncomfortable, and he was fervently hoping that the situation could be satisfactorily resolved in the very near future. Hermione was also still unsuccessfully trying to convince Dobby to change her back. She wasn't too appreciative of her pseudo-Weasley appearance. Harry had caught his best friend cursing the elf's name more than once under her breath. And Harry had twice caught himself sniffing books. On the other hand, his grades had never been higher.

Harry leaned back in his chair, put a hand through his prematurely gray hair and sighed. He paused a moment, setting the letter down long enough to clean his glasses. After taking a sip of tea, he sat down to compose his response.

_Dear Mr. Sanguini,_

_I regret to inform you that I have no magical hold over Winky or Dobby, seeing as neither are bound to me nor to anyone else. As their friend, I can suggest that they hold off, but a command from me has never been something Dobby has paid close attention to in the past._

_All I can suggest is waiting it out or, alternatively, sending them some movies, comic books or other bits of popular culture. They will probably leave you alone after this._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

* * *

"Dobby is ready for the project!" the house elf said with a crisp salute. He was currently dressed as Halloween Xander complete with Kung-Fu grip. He was even wearing a tag that advertized that particular ability.

"Great!" Harry said. "You and Hedwig need to take care of something for me. I've been having some problems with a certain politician."

"Stupid Fudge-Monkey?" Dobby asked.

"Exactly," Harry said. He handed the house elf a small package. "In here is everything you should need."

Dobby looked in the nondescript brown paper bag and Harry watched as his little friend's smile grew to manic proportions. "Dobby will take care of it wonderfully!"

Next to him, Hedwig gave her master a wink and a head bob.

A second later, both were gone. Hermione looked on with concern.

"Harry," she said. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

"Ever since the Skull Fracking Snakes came back, Fudge has been causing me problems," Harry explained. "This should take care of issues with him, and keep Dobby occupied. How goes the work with Winky on returning us to our previous state of being?"

"Your Giles-type speech is kinda creepy," Hermione said. "I haven't been able to get her to change us back yet, but I think she's caving. Maybe soon."

"Good," Harry said. "While I do agree with my increase in marks, and my new ability to play guitar, along with some limited wandless magic, I would rather have my hair returned to its natural state."

"Yup, me too," Hermione said. "Although the ability to speak paragraphs without taking a breath has been useful at times. I'm also able to cast almost all my spells wandlessly, and it's scaring the new DADA professor. He seems to think I'm going Dark. But that's just silly-talk. I can handle it."

"That's good," Harry said.

"There is something I've been wondering about," Hermione continued. "You said Dobby was confronting bullies in your relatives' neighborhood?"

"Yes, he managed to solve many of the problems Dudley had started," Harry assured her.

"But isn't that breaking the Statute of Secrecy?"

Harry smiled conspiratorially.

"Not really," Harry said with more than a hint of glee. "I just told the neighbors that Dobby was really Dobbson Dursley. My relatives try to keep him out of sight because they're embarrassed by him and don't want the neighborhood to know about him. Which is true."

"Wait, you let them believe Dobby's your mutant baby cousin?"

Harry nodded with a grin.

"That's rather brilliant," Hermione admitted.

"It does seem to work," Harry said. "And it's a little bit of revenge."

* * *

One week later, Hedwig dropped off a response.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_As you said, they have ceased sending me their previous packages. Instead, they have sent me a black leather '70s style duster with hair bleach and hairspray. And while the Cockney Rhyming Slang dictionary was amusing, I doubt that I shall start assuming the accent. This has nothing to do with me. As far as I know, the only vampire that resembled me in personality was Walton, and I have little physically in common with him._

_Please, Mr. Potter, I only ask that this harassment ceases._

_Sanguini_

* * *

"Harry," Hermione said later.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"What was in that bag you gave Dobby?" the brown-haired girl asked apprehensively.

"A classic movie," Harry said.

"Oh," Hermione said in a slightly shocked tone. "Well, that's not too bad, I suppose."

* * *

_Concurrently, at the Minister's residence:_

Cornelius Fudge, current Minister of Magic and long time Lucius Malfoy contributee, awoke to find a house elf standing on his chest.

"Wake up, you piece of shite," the House elf commanded, stepping off his chest. Fudge-Monkey sat up in bed in surprise. He recognized the elf as one that Lucius Malfoy used to send with "donations" before his ***ahem*** untimely demise. He also knew this elf had been freed by his former financial backer.

"What are you doing here? Guards! Guards!" Fudgy called out, only for an Owl to whack him up side the head with a wing.

"Dobby sorry," Dobby said condescendingly. "Did she break your concentration?"

Fudge just looked back numbly as he pressed his hand to the surprisingly hefty wound the feathered invader had just delivered.

"Tell Dobby," the house elf said. "What does the great and bestest Harry Potter sir look like?"

"What?" Fudge-Monkey asked.

"Describe Harry Potter sir," the house elf commanded, pointing a strange silver object at the Minister's head. Dobby pulled back a sliding part on top of the object and it snapped in place with a click.

"What?"

"What country are you from?" Dobby demanded, as the owl nodded menacingly behind him, her golden eyes burrowing themselves into Fudge's skull.

"What?"

"'What' ain't no country Dobby's ever heard of!" Dobby said, waving the silver object around. "Do they speak English in 'What'?"

"What? _What?_"

"English, Mother-Fracker! Do you speak it?"

"Yes! Yes!" Fudge said, nodding pitifully. He wasn't sure what the silver object the elf was waving around might be, but it was always best to play things safe when dealing with possibly insane people. And possibly insane elves, too.

"Then you be understanding the words that are coming out of Dobby's mouth!" Dobby snarled.

Hedwig barked out a bit of Owl-Speak, noting that Dobby's last line was from a different movie. Dobby was too In-Character to respond.

"YES!" Fudge replied in a full panicked mode.

"Then, what does Harry Potter look like?" Dobby asked again, slowly enunciating every syllable.

"What?"

"Say 'What' again! Say it, Mother Fracker! I dare you! I double dare you!" Dobby commanded, pressing the silver object to Fudge-monkey's forehead. "**What-does-Harry-Potter-sir-look-like?**"

"He-he's short," Fudge stuttered.

"Go on."

"He-he's got glasses and me-messy black hair," Fudge finished.

"Does he look like a _bitch_?" Dobby demanded, eyes bulging with menace.

"_**WHAT?**_"

* * *

Harry leaned back in his chair. "I think it will take care of my problems."

Hermione gave him a suspicious look before standing up in her chair. "I think I'm going to make a deal with Winky. I think this one will work."

She walked out of the rooms, and strode right to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where Winky was "patrolling" for vampires. Four unfortunate blood-sucking fiends had already fallen beneath her stake.

"Winky!" Hermione called out. An instant later, the house elf was right in front of her. "I've come to realize I've been going about this the wrong way. I understand that you won't change me back."

"A Slayer needs her Scoobies," Winky agreed with a firm nod.

"Right," Hermione said, shaking her frizzy red hair slightly. "However, I realized you made me the wrong character."

"Really?" Winky asked with wide eyes. "Winky so sorry!"

"That's okay," Hermione said. "While I'm smart enough to be Willow, I think I'd do better as Dawn. Then we could be sisters. Wouldn't you like to have a sister?"

Winky's eyes grew wider as she launched herself at the girl, hugging Hermione with all her elfy-might. "Winky thinks Hermy would make great sister!"

"And wouldn't Ginny be a better Willow? She's got the right build and the right hair already," Hermione pointed out. "She could use the better grades as well."

"Wow! Winky's Sister Hermy is being sooooooooooooooo right!" the house elf agreed, hugging the girl tighter.

"So, shouldn't you change me to Dawnie so we can be sisters?" Hermione asked. Winky smiled, winked twice, and Hermione found herself with her original natural brunette hair, but without a bit of frizz in sight. She glanced down and realize she had better-than-original curves as well. With a squee of delight, she pulled her now pseudo-sister into a hug. "Thank you so much!"

It would only be later that Hermione realized she had traded in diligence and pure obsession with magic for a tendency to "acquire" other people's objects. That was a lot easier to deal with than explaining her new "older sister" to her parents. But at least her grades didn't suffer.

* * *

A while later, Harry and Hermione were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall as Hedwig flew in, landing on Harry's shoulder.

"Prek!" said Hedwig with a bob of her head.

"How's the Minister?" Harry asked.

"_Prick!_" said Hedwig.

"I couldn't agree more," Harry said stroking her chest feathers. After a moment he reached down and handed his familiar a 140g beef patty, grilled over charcoal, with lettuce, cheese, mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, pickles and onions on a sesame seed bun. Hedwig was quite pleased with herself as she started devouring the poor quarter pounder.

"Harry, don't you usually give her bacon?"

"Yeah, but this time I thought she deserved a Royale with Cheese," Harry said with a smile. He glanced over at his friend with an appreciative look. "Hermione...you're looking … ..."

He made a vaguely curvacious hourglass motion with his hands.

"-For a bigger bra next time we go to Hogsmeade?" she suggested with a raised eyebrow.

"Right," Harry said, letting his hands fall back to the table. "That works. So, I take it the talk with Winky went well?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "Having a house elf as an older sister is a bit of an adjustment."

"Having one as a mutant cousin is just as troublesome," Harry agreed.

* * *

I do not own Pulp Fiction, although I do consider it a classic movie.

Thanks go to Rorschach's Blot from whom I shamelessly stole Hedwig-Speak.


	3. Harry Verses Sanity

**We're Doomed**

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_This might be a little difficult for you to understand, but I accidentally got an older sister. She's a house elf. She might be visiting, so be wary, she's more than a little insane, but I don't think she'd do anything to hurt you. Just treat her like you'd treat me and everything should be A-OK._

_Thanks,_

_Hermione_

* * *

Dobby knew something was up. There was danger in the air. Hogwarts was a dark place that knew how to keep its secrets. But one free house elf would ferret out the answers to life's persistent questions: Dobby, Private Eye.

Dobby knew things had changed. Naughty mistress (sometimes very, _very_naughty mistress) was in moaning for her lost husband and son. Dobby think it supposed to be "mourning," but Dobby can never really tell. The grief must have changed things, because the Naughty Mistress couldn't remember her dead husband's name. At least that's what Dobby been assuming, cuz now-fertilizer-former-bad-master wasn't named Filius (whatever a Filius was), but that was the name that she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

Weeks (1.5 weeks to be specific) had passed since Dobby remade the Scooby Gang. Dobby had to admit that Neville made a better Xander than Dobby did. And the looks he got was awesome, especially when Neville repelled a skull fracking snake attack by axe, trowel and wand. Dobby was impressed. Maybe Longybuttocks should be the new Punishererer.

* * *

"Harry?"

The boy in question looked up to see his friend looking down at him. 5th year wasn't doing so well since there had been a string of incompetent DADA profs.

"What's up, Hermione?"

"Have you considered teaching us DADA? You know it better than us already," she noted.

"I'll think about it," Harry agreed.

* * *

There was a meeting at Hogsmeade and it was later decided to start off as a secret club hidden from the "High Inquisitor" assigned by the Ministry. Since three former DADA teachers had been revealed to be Skull Fracking Snakes, and several others suspected to sympathize, their "mysterious" deaths from decapitation, small arms fire and stakes to the chest required frequent replacements. As such, Hogwarts Education was less than optimal.

"We need a name," Hermione said.

"A name?" Harry asked.

"Something that sets us apart, like the Scoobies," Hermione said.

"Oh dear lord, _no_, we are _not_the Scoobies," Harry said, pulling off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Defense Association?" Cho Change suggested.

_Ppft_! Scoffed Ginny Weasley from where she was sitting _very_closely with Hanna Abbot. If they were any closer they would have to be in each other's clothes. "How about Dumbledore's Army?"

Some people thought that was a better choice, but Dobby raised his hand with more eagerness and energy than Hermione in first year.

"Yes, Dobby?" Harry asked patiently. The excitable elf ran over and whispered in the Great Wizard Harry Potter Sir's ear and a moment later, a wide grin spread across Harry's face. The wizard turned to a muggleborn Hufflepuff with an amused smirk. "Tell me, Justin, what is the first rule of Fight Club?"

Justin's face went into a wide grin, as did nearly every other muggle born or muggle-raised witch and wizard present. As one, they stood up, gave a romanesque salute and belted out the answer.

"YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB!"

"Does anyone know the second rule of Fight Club?" Harry asked with a sly smile.

* * *

"So, has anybody seen or heard from Ron in the last few weeks?" Harry asked the crowd. There were many shaking heads, but Ginny, not breaking eye-contact with Hanna, raised her arm.

"He said he was getting ready for Halloween," Ginny supplied. "He owled Mom, er, Mum -sorry, Californization guys - and told her to send him as much clothing and scraps as she could find. He was making costumes and he signed it as 'Her degenerate son,' and he's been muttering about someone named Yan-oos or Jan-oos or us, or something like that. I'm not to sure what that means, but it seemed significant, so I went to the library and I didn't find anything in the rituals section nor the charms section, so I went to the muggle information section and brushed the dust off the books and found out that Janus is a Roman deity of endings and beginnings, of change and doorways. So I thought, yeah, Ron might have heard about that from Dad, but I don't think Daddy has every really spent much time on anything other than Muggle technology, and by the way, I managed to get a computer working in the library and hitched it to a satellite dish on the top of the astronomy tower, so we now have internet and I've been watching a lot of porn. Did you know there's porn about everything? There's even a website, that's like a book in digital form for you who don't know, and digital is this -not-really-physical-thingy that computers do and it can hold a lot of information, but getting back to porn, there's this site that talks about how there isn't really a thing unless it has porn about it. And so I went there and looked at a lot. What's hentai, cuz I don't understand but there's a lot of tentacles involved and a lot of nasty stuff, but there's better stuff with the werewolf porn and the lesbian girl porn, but there isn't too much of lesbian werewolf porn. Oh, and maybe I should breathe now."

The rest of Fight Club watched as the youngest Weasley passed out from lack of oxygen.

After a long moment (Hanna having made sure Ginny was breathing, an act that required lips and chest compressions that looked more like gropes and tongue), Ginny was awake once more. She stood up and looked around to see eyes on her. Grabbing Hanna's hand, she pulled the older girl to her feet.

"We, uh," Ginny said, her eyes staring at the ceiling as she tried to find and excuse to leave. She looked to Hanna for a suggestion.

"We need to practice our magic," Hanna prompted.

Ginny blushed and had an entirely poor acting job as she pretended to remember that just then.

"Oh, Riiight, Practice our 'magic'. Yes, Hanna let's go 'practice our magic' together," Ginny said, blushing as red as her hair. She grabbed Hanna by the hand and was gone almost as fast as apparation.

Fred looked to George.

"Fred?" asked Fred.

"Yes, George?" asked George.

"Our dear little sister does know that lies work better if you don't use finger-quotes, right?" Fred asked.

"I do believe she forgot that part," said George.

Then both Weasley twins snapped their fingers and made finger-quotes themselves before turning towards their paramours.

"Want to go 'practice some magic' my dear?" they asked in unison, both looking towards their respective paramours and received positive responses.

Harry glanced about the room, noticing that more than a few couples were teaming up to "practice their magic" in broom cupboards and the like. Harry looked away and let out a mumbled "oh dear lord" as he pulled off his glasses for cleaning, before turning the conversation back to Ron.

"So, my old best friend has turned into a chaos mage worshiping Janus," Harry said, taking a sip of tea as he sat back down. "Dobby? Why did you turn Ron into Ethan?"

"Dobby didn't," the house elf said with a romanesque salute. He was dressed as Julius Caesar. "Dobby was too busy subjugating the Gaulish Hordes."

"What Gaulish Hordes?" Hermione asked. Winky snapped her fingers and a door opened, revealing about half the upper years of Beaubatons, trussed up and gagged with white silk over their blue uniforms. With their eyes alone, they pleaded to be saved. Hermione smirked slightly, cocked her hips slightly and stood with her legs wider than usual. "Winky?"

"Yes little sister Hermy-Dawnie?"

"I don't think you should let Dobby watch my parents' Rome DVDs, and you do need to return them to their school," Hermione instructed. Winky looked up at Hermione for a long moment.

"Whatever," she said with a roll of her eyes. "At least the sex was being good."

"In a feeble attempt to utterly change the subject from that rather disturbing topic," Harry said as he cleaned his glasses, "would anyone care for a cuppa?"

* * *

"I don't know Dobby," Neville said. "I guess I do have the hair, but I'm not so sure black is my color."

Dobby and Neville were in the Room of Requirement currently disguised as the place where Dobby kepted the Punisherer's Armory.

"Dobby knows that Mister Nevy Longybuttocks can do this," Dobby said with a reassuring pat on the back. "Dobby knows Mister Longybuttocks wants to kill-Whoops! Dobby mean punish, punish the skull frackin' snakes for what they did to Mister Longybuttocks father/mother sirs ma'mes."

"But I'm not sure. Won't they know it's me?" Neville asked. "I'm not wearing a mask."

"Hmm...Mister Nevy Longybuttocks be having a point," Dobby mused, pacing in place as he pondered the situation. Then a literal light-bulb lit up above the elf's head. "Dobby be knowing! They will never look at Mister Nevy Longybuttocks face! Has Mister Nevy Longybuttocks ever be hearing of the Watchmen?"

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later:**

The entire population of Hogwarts looked up in horror. The sight was..._impressive_to say the least, intimidating for many others. Hermione leaned over and grinned as she whispered in Harry's ear.

"What's blue and sounds like a bell?" she asked impishly.

Harry looked at her like she was crazy. "Sorry, besides Neville, I haven't the slightest idea."

"_Dong_!" she said with a tone like the ringing of a bell and a Cheshire Cat grin.

…

…

Harry stared at her with a blank, frankly shocked look on his face.

"While I give you points for the Monty Python reference, that was still a horrible pun," he stated flatly.

She just stuck her tongue in her cheek and winked.

From high above them Neville's voice echoed down.

"Uh, Dobby," the gigantic blue boy said. "I'm not sure this is an improvement. And it's kinda cold. But you're right, no one's looking at my face."

* * *

Dumbledore decided to start looking for the Horcrux-thingies part way through fifth year for Harry and decided to bring him along. The seaside cavern was filled with undead bodies that clambered up out of the soupy mess surrounding the fake soul container, and had cut off the intrepid adventurers, preventing the usual means of escape. An attempt at apparation showed that Voldemort had considered that possibility as well, leaving the duo stranded.

"Harry, my boy, I'm not sure we'll make it out of this," Dumbledore told him, as the poison started shutting down his body. Already the old wizard's reflexes were slowing and it was only a matter of time before the undead overcame their defenses. That time finally came when Dumbledore passed out cold.

"Dobby!" Harry called out.

"Yeses, Great Harry Potter Sirses?" Dobby said, appearing before them.

"We're in real trouble and Dumbledore needs something to help us fight the undead!" Harry screamed as he sent gobs of fire at encroaching undead.

"Dobby hases its!"

Pulling out a chainsaw, Dobby cut off Dumbledore's hand, preventing the withering curse from traveling further up the appendage. He then whisked the poison out through the wound and replaced the hand with a steel gauntlet. With a snap of the House Elf's fingers, Dumbledore sat up straight. He paused for a moment before looking at his new steel hand.

"Groovy," he said as he fanned his new fingers.

"_What_?" Harry asked in surprise.

"The gauntlet: it's got grooves all over it," Dumbledore clarified before summoning a double barreled shotgun. He held it high before the attacking undead hordes. "_This_ is my **boomstick**!"

He cocked it once, and pulled the trigger, sending zombie parts flying every which way. "Shop Smart, mother-frackers!"

After a little while, he tossed the shotgun to Harry and jumped head first into the Zombie Horde using Dobby's Chainsaw +5 of Zombie Slaying. It has a +9 against Zombies, or at least that's what Dobby said.

"Oh dear lord!" Harry exclaimed as he ducked under a flying torso, three legs, an arm and 3/4 of a head, none of which came from the same zombie. He looked down scandalously at his zombie-juice ruined tweed and grumbled. "Now I know how Buffy felt."

Needless to say, the duo survived quite well and many deadites, er, zombies, er, _inferi_ did not.

* * *

Harry arrived back in Hogwarts alive and moderately well. I say moderately because his mental condition suffered a bit of damage and there was much cleaning of glasses thereafter. The biggest blow came when Dumbledore told Professor Babbling to "Gimme some sugar," and proceeded to bend her backwards in a near jaw-crushing kiss.

Tired and exhausted after watching the raw enthusiasm Dumbledore apparently had for the removal of the walking dead, he made his way to the Room of Requirement. He knew that all he had to do was walk past a picture a few times and he could have his own personal fortress of solitude where he could enjoy a cuppa all by himself with nothing to disturb him.

He had, unfortunately, made an assumption, and we all know what that makes of you and me.

This particular assumption was that the room would be unoccupied.

It wasn't.

In fact, it was so spectacularly occupied that the very sight of it shocked the young wizard to the core. The room, larger than he had ever seen it before was filled with lines and lines of people. Standing in the front of the room was a familiar blonde fiddling with some controls.

"Luna? What's this?" Harry asked.

The girl looked up and gave him her usual half-there smile of greeting.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said. "But I'm not Luna."

"You're not?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused by the idea that Luna might not be Luna. "Then who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Number Six," she said as if it was completely obvious to all. Once more, Harry made an assumption, this time that it was just Luna being Luna.

"Number six of what?" he asked.

"A Model Six, of course," she said. "Of the Hogwarts Cylons."

Harry froze.

This was bad.

It had the potential to be _very_bad.

He glanced around and realized there was a line of Seamuses, a line of Deans, a line of Hedwigs and a line of Crookshanks in addition to the line of Lunas. He could see several other lines off in the distance, he could just barely make out a line of Patils, no, make that two lines of Patils. He closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath.

"Dobby?" Harry asked the air. There was a popping sound as his popular culture addicted friend magically appeared.

"Yes, oh great-wonderous of all, Mister The Great Harry Potter sir?" his bug-eyed friend said in a chipper voice.

"Did you just make a whole bunch of Cylons?" Harry asked.

"Yuppers!" Dobby said with a wide grin. "Dobby be making 1300."

"1300?"

"Each," Dobby clarified.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut as he tried to head his impending headache off at the pass. He was so focused on this he barely registered Dobby's commanded to his Cylon Legions.

"Yous all go kill Skull Frackin' Snakes!" he commanded imperiously, pointing towards the door.

The giant room echoed with the sound of thousands of voices.

"By your command!" most of them said, their eyes going red from side to side before marching out the door.

Harry looked at the Hogwarts Cylons, then looked back at Dobby, then at the doors that miraculously appeared to give them exit.

Harry Potter did the only thing he could do.

He sighed.

Harry Potter sighed again and pulled off his glasses

And then he cleaned them.

* * *

**The End.**

* * *

Needless to say, I don't claim ownership over any popular culture hinted or mentioned in this story. It's just for fun and larfs.


End file.
